


Holy Holy Holy

by effing_gravity (Malteaser)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, Whatever the Angelic Equivalent of Rapture Anxiety Is, the first war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 13:36:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19813387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malteaser/pseuds/effing_gravity
Summary: Someone on the kinkmeme asked for Aziraphale's experiences during the War in Heaven, and I had already given the matter too much thought not to bang something out.





	Holy Holy Holy

Aziraphale doesn't sleep. This has very little to do with anything against a little exercise in sloth- considering his various other indulgences, sloth would barely even register- but rather that every time he tries, every times he closes his eyes and lays back in the dark and tries not to think, he ends up thinking quite a lot, and none of his thoughts are good.   
  
He doesn't like violence, you see. That's something about him that is utterly true, and always has been, and is also not mutually exclusive with him being very, very good at violence. And he was, so very, very good at it. There's a whole mess of medals with his name on them, somewhere in Heaven. Gabriel finally- finally!- stopped bringing it up around the time he got the bookshop, which is good, because he's never had any intention of so much as looking at them. The very thought makes him feel quite ill, thank you very much.   
  
One of them- likely the only one he might even be able to tolerate the sight of- was undoubtedly for saving Nuriel's life. She'd gone down, and he'd broken out formation to find her, and _they were tearing her to shreds_ and he just-  
  
She made it. It was touch and go, as he understood it from Raphael later, but she lived to rain destruction upon Egypt between the boils and the locusts. Most of the demons who'd tried to kill her didn't. He distinctly remembers piercing three of them through the back with a bolt of flame as they tried to flee.   
  
He killed a lot people that day. Enough to warrant several more medals, in Heaven's eyes. He'd nodded politely when they'd told him, and then put in for a transfer. Principality of the Eastern Gate was a bit of a step down from Commander of Cherubim, but Eden was supposed to be peaceful and a bit dull, which he rather liked the sound of at that point.   
  
Sometimes, when the ill-advised urge to give sleeping another go comes upon him, he wonders if he gave his sword away to Adam because the humans clearly needed protecting, or because he saw the first opportunity to be rid of the thing and took it.   
  
Crowley loves sleeping, of course, and it always baffles him that Aziraphale doesn't. But, of course, Crowley doesn't _know_ , does he? He doesn't even have the vague guesses that Aziraphale has been able to make about Crowley's past (most likely a seraph, probably one of the original Watchers). Somewhere between all the rescues throughout history, all the tempting and thwarting thereof, and all the teasing he does sometimes, when they have ill-advised drinks for earthly reasons alone, it's become obvious that Crowley thinks Aziraphale began as Principality of the Eastern Gate, after the First War. He has no idea that Aziraphale had been there as well, on the opposite end of the battlefield. He has no idea how easily Aziraphale might have killed him before they'd even met, or how likely it is that he killed friends of his (or possibly even family of his, presuming Aziraphale had it correct, that he'd been a Watcher).  
  
No, to Crowley Aziraphale is fussy and soft and probably nearly sliced himself open when he gave the sword to Adam. And, quite frankly, Aziraphale prefers to be that version of himself.   
  
It can't last, though. Of course it can't last. The Great Plan will one day be set into motion, and things will end as they began, on a battlefield screaming in pain and predestination.   
  
He doesn't think he'll be so lucky as to manage to avoid meeting Crowley there a second time.


End file.
